


Friends and Neighbours

by Ceres00



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/M, One Night Stands, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-11-26 22:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18186629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceres00/pseuds/Ceres00
Summary: Prompt by MykEspritRecently divorced Draco moves into a new neighborhood. Single mom Hermione tries to get the homeowners association to kick him out.





	Friends and Neighbours

Wizarding Hampstead Garden was a quiet community of affluent wizarding folk, nestled between a similarly named Muggle Hampstead Garden. Its residents held many a community event to pass their time– including Competitions, Fairs and Charity Quidditch. The  Homeowners’ Welfare Association (HWA) which organised these events, had the distinction of being run in a spectacularly democratic and transparent manner, as evinced by the success of the events it organised. Public meetings and elections were regularly held to appoint a head, who ran the entire thing with the help of a secretary and a treasurer. The three made up the council and its members took their jobs very seriously indeed. The summer of when single mother Hermione Granger moved in to the locality, however, it was realized that things weren’t running seriously enough. An unfortunate incident during the Lawn Competition, set into course, a series of events that were to change the lives of the residents of Wizarding Hampstead Garden, forever. Relatively speaking, of course.

 

It was a bright summer day of the month that Hermione Granger had moved into the locality. The judges were preparing to inspect the lawns that had entered into the fray. The prize was declared to be an all-expense paid trip to Alexandria. Naturally, each resident had tried to outdo the other, and quite a few resorted to planting species of a more dubious, yet eye-catching nature. One competitor thought it fit to plant the Devil’s Snare while another had planted a row of Venomous Tentacula. The judges team of five had been reduced to three in number by the time the inspections were over. Thankfully, no humans were fatally hurt. One of the judges, Mrs. Crowley however did lose her precious terrier, Ben (named so after her dead ex-husband). She was distraught indeed and sought ~~revenge~~ change by proposing that the current council resign to take full moral responsibility for the tragic event. Her motion was accepted and thus, the council had to resign in ignominy.

 

When fresh elections were announced, the residents were swayed just as all innocent voters are, by the emotional cries of Mrs. Crowley and by the fresh and pretty face of Hermione Granger, who was running for president. She had helped defeat a Dark Lord, a feat that earned her an Order of Merlin when she was of a tender age, and was currently Assistant Head of the DMLE. There was no doubting her credentials and the residents hoped she’d bring the same energy that she had used during her stint in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to reform anachronistic laws, to spearhead pioneering change in their community as well. Hermione Granger won with a thumping majority. It helped that she was a doting mother to a beautiful daughter, though said daughter was hardly ever sighted because of heavy wards around their house. The opponent lost with the largest margin of votes in history, a fact he sought to obscure by casting a notice-me-not charm over himself, when it was being announced. To this day, the residents answer with blank looks, pursed lips or by scratching their heads when asked to recall his name or face.

 

What a change, she brought about. Gone were the dangerous Lawn Competitions, replaced by enlightening Lectures and Seminars held in the community hall; the reckless Charity Quidditch (for Albert Sawbridge did injure his hip in the last one- nevermind that the 190-year old shouldn’t have been engaging in that sport at all) replaced by a charity Gobstone Competition; A year later, only the Annual Fair remained intact- though only after the items to be sold were personally approved by the Council after undergoing strict scrutiny. Indeed, there were murmurs of discontent among the residents now. They tried to appeal to the Secretary, Padma Patil- a long time friend of the President, to convince her to be a bit more amenable to the demands of the homeowners. The Patils had been residents of the community a good while longer than the Grangers. Padma’s  father had been one of the unfortunate judges who’d dropped out during the infamous Lawn incident. He had nearly lost a buttock to a venomous tentacula bite. He was never the same around plants again. And thus, Granger had found a loyal ally in Padma. Capable and efficient, she was soon to become Hermione Granger’s right hand-witch. The names of those expressing discontent were secretly noted and communicated. Terrible things happened to befall those who made the list. Mr Blackfyre was arrested for illegally breeding crups. Ms Fitzgerald was heavily fined by the authorities for owning Dragon’s blood beyond permissible limits. It was found that she used it for its anti-ageing properties, and was in fact, not her claimed age of 48 years, but 84 years instead.

 

It was soon understood that any communication of discontent would be met with retaliation by the council. Murmurs remained just that– for residents were more concerned about living their lives in peace than indulging their eccentricities. Discontent simmered below the seeming quiet. The detractors had learnt their lesson and became less vocal, choosing to express their unhappiness at exclusive Garden Parties, where it wasn’t uncommon to hear phrases like “Fascist”, “The Resistance” (what they liked to call themselves) and “Coup d’etat”. Codenames were assigned to those in power, such as “She Who Must Not Be Named” and “The Harpy”. Three guesses which was meant for whom. It was disquieting indeed that Granger and Patil had taken on the mantle of a new totalitarian regime, at least for some of those who resided in the little community of Wizarding Hampstead Garden. One year on, Questions were starting to be raised about the “true face” of Hermione Granger. Rumours were abound that she didn’t even have a daughter, not really. It was simply a large orange cat that she dressed in kid’s clothing. The fact that there were conflicting accounts of what her daughter looked like (most claimed she was a redhead –damning evidence for the cat conspiracy theorists– others were convinced that she was a brunette like her mother), only served to add fuel to that rumour.

 

***

 

Hermione hurried to finish the last of the paperwork as the clock in her office struck 6PM. She didn’t want to be late for the dinner Padma had gone out of the way to make for her. Having her as a neighbour had really smoothened her life out. Padma had chosen to be a stay-at-home mom. Her husband worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation and so had Padma before she got married, had a kid and quit work. Padma had been a rising star in the department, ambitious to a fault. It therefore came as a surprise to many when she chose to be a full-time mom. She was a shrewd woman who was a lawyer for the DIMC, drafting trade treaties for the department. She often led the team that negotiated with the other parties, managing to wrest terms that were (unfairly– according to the opposite party– but losers always say that) in favour of the British Ministry of Magic. She described herself as “determined” and “resourceful” in the annual self appraisal reports (euphemism for “Overbearing” and “Machiavellian” according to her peers– probably because she was a woman). What changed her rising tide, was an unfortunate incident of accidental magic during one particular meeting, which led to a breakdown of important treaty talks with the Romanian Ministry. While no one knew the particulars of that incident, Padma had taken the blame as team leader and resigned, shocking everyone in the Department, for she was considered to be shoe-in for the coveted position of undersecretary.

 

Opening a new chapter in her life, she taken her upcoming duties as a full time mom very seriously indeed. Her bookshelf had now got its own section on childcare, which included books like _Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother_ ,   _How to Not Hate Your Husband_ _After Kids_ and _How to Raise A Genius_ , among others. While Childcare was time consuming, it wasn’t intense enough. Her husband, Jason, had encouraged her to get involved in the community events and projects, especially after he saw her new book collection.

That Hermione had moved in around the time of fresh elections was an opportunity indeed to run things the way she wanted– something she’d strived for previously at the ministry and failed to achieve. All Hermione needed was a bit of convincing, so Padma had utilised all her skills as a lawyer and successfully persuaded her to run, promising to help Hermione out with her daughter Eirene as much as possible; that she wouldn’t need to do anything but sign a few papers at the end of the week. Hermione was grateful for the help being offered, and trusted Padma’s capabilities and work ethic enough to agree. Plus, Eirene had recently turned two and was ecstatic to have a play partner in Padma’s kid, Arjuna, who happened to be the same age.

 

Hermione finally left her office, rushing to the Atrium in order to floo to Padma’s home. As soon as she stepped onto her living room, she noticed that the place looked like a hurricane had ravaged it. Knowing Padma’s neat-freak personality (often bordering on OCD), she whipped her wand out and worriedly called out, “Padma? Eirene?!”

 

“In here!” came Padma’s voice from where she knew the kitchen was located. Walking into the kitchen, she saw Padma cooking what smelled to be a wonderful pasta dish in the works.  
  
“Could you get the wine glasses from that cupboard behind you?” Padma asked, without looking back to confirm Hermione’s presence.

 

Calmed by her cool demeanor, Hermione did as she was instructed, but not before questioning, “This is unusual. Where are the kids? What happened to the living room?”

 

Padma finally looked back, giving her the broadest smile she’d seen in a while. In fact, she distinctly remembered the last time she saw her smile that wide–  it had been when they’d just been declared winners to the HWA elections.

 

“Arjuna and Eirene had their first bout of accidental magic!” Padma exclaimed with a twinkle in her eyes.  
  
Hermione’s eyes widened and her heart simultaneously soared and stuttered. Magic manifesting this early was a sign of magical precocity, and while she was proud that her daughter’s magical abilities were this strong, she was shattered that she wasn’t there to see it.

 

“What happened?!”

 

“Arjuna wouldn’t give Lucy back to her so she threw a massive tantrum along with a magical blast that could rival an Erumpent’s, and destroyed my living room.”

 

Dazed at the story, Hermione took a while to gather her thoughts. “Did you just compare my angel to a dangerous Class- S creature?” She asked with narrowed eyes.

 

Padma snorted. She reached for the bottle of red wine on the kitchen table, uncorked it and poured a generous amount in both glasses before continuing, “Turns out Arjuna had an instinct for self-preservation and he must have cast some sort of shield around himself because he escaped unhurt! When I asked him to give Lucy back to Eirene, he did, but not before dipping it in paint. It’s purple now. Really brings the colour of its eyes out.”

 

It was Hermione turn to snort, as she helped herself to her glass. “It’s a stuffed Hungarian Horntail. It’s not pretty in any colour.”

 

“Yeah well, she disagreed with me, and changed it back to green. Typical” said Padma affectionately. It seemed she’d really grown to love Eirene and all her quirks. She served the Pasta onto a dish and fetched the plates for the table.

 

“I can’t believe I missed that,” Hermione pouted as she made to sit on the table, famished after a hard day of work.

 

Padma nearly slammed the pasta dish on the table while putting it down and wagged a finger at her, “Don’t you dare make yourself feel guilty about it. It couldn’t be helped.”

 

Hermione sighed. “So I’m guessing they’re knackered and have gone off to sleep well before their usual bedtime?”

 

“Mmhmm, leaving us with some precious time to enjoy a drink and a wonderful dinner in peace.” She sang as she joined Hermione at the table.

 

“Where’s Jason?”

 

“On a trip to Madagascar, the bastard.”

 

“He just missed his son’s first magic show. Feel sorry for him?”

 

“Not when he’s gallivanting around the world getting all that...knowledge”

 

Hermione laughed. “I do wish I’d been sorted into Ravenclaw. It would’ve been nice to have girlfriend. Instead, I was stuck with two air heads. No offence.”

 

“No need for that. I love my sister, but I’m not ignorant to her faults. I know them better than anyone else. Let’s just say she’s couldn’t have found a better place to work, than at Witch Weekly.”

 

“Speaking of work, how’s it going with the Council? I can really help you out now that the holidays are just round the corner and work is less.”

 

Padma smiled, albeit a bit tightly. “Don’t worry about it. I got it all under control. You just need to sign off a few cheques. The winter festival is just around the corner and I’ve got the members of the HWA roped in to volunteer their time.”

 

“I can’t believe how skilled you are at getting everyone on board and helping out. I tried to do that for SPEW in my fourth year and failed miserably.”

 

Padma gave a shrill laugh. “It’s a skill, my love. But forget that. You know that house across your street that recently got sold? You won’t believe who’s moving in.”

 

“Is it a member of the Weird Sisters? I know how you love that band.”

 

“Strike One!” said, Padma, playfully shaking her head.  
  
Hermione pouted again. “Just tell me?”

 

“You’re no fun,” said Padma, rolling her eyes. “It’s Draco Malfoy!”

 

Hermione choked on her drink, and immediately turned red while coughing.

 

“Oh, gosh! Are you okay?!” Said Padma, rushing over and thumping her back unhelpfully.

 

“I-I-m Fine!” Hermione choked out, before taking a few deep breaths.

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you-” said Padma, but Hermione was losing all colour from her face, as rapidly as she’d gained it. “You don’t look so good. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

 

Nodding, she gulped a lot of air, before reigning her breathing in.  “Just choked on the wine. H-How– no wait– _why_ is he moving to this place? Doesn’t he own a big manor in Wiltshire? Or it that too small for his big ego?”

 

Padma looked a bit surprised at her vitriol. “Seems like he doesn’t get along with his parents and wants to spread his wings a bit. Didn’t want the media’s attention so he’s moving to this place. It’s known for its privacy.”  
  
“What?” Hermione asked, eyes wide.

  
  
“I know you don’t read gossip rags, but his divorce has been all over them. His parents are _not_ happy.”

 

Hermione gave her a look of disbelief, knowing that Padma didn’t read them either.  
  
“I don’t need a Witch Weekly subscription. Sunday evening calls from Parvati are enough,” Padma said, answering her unasked question. “I know you guys didn’t get along, but isn’t your reaction a bit... excessive?”

 

“Yes– I mean, no! We hated each other at school.” Hermione floundered as she searched for more reasons to explain why him moving in just across the street was not a good idea. She desperately tried to reason with Padma, “You know he was a prejudiced bastard at school. Are you sure we need to have that around in this locality? I mean, there are innocent kids living here. I don’t want them to hear words like _mudblood_ thrown around. And he runs his father’s sketchy business, selling barely legal potions and getting into murky deals that has the ministry constantly breathing down his neck. Who knows what kind of business associates he has! And what if he uses his home to peddle illegal stuff or hold meetings with his dubious associates here? This can go wrong in _so_ many ways!” She nearly pleaded.

 

Padma looked thoughtful. “You know as well as I do, that if he was doing anything illegal, he’d be in Azkaban already. The Aurors are keeping a close watch on him and certainly aren’t doing him any favours with constant raids to his offices and the Manor. Lucius’ parole terms are air-tight. They have the Malfoys’ on a leash. And trust me, if he takes one step out of line, I’ll make sure he disappears so that not even his family’s blood magic can find him!” she uttered darkly.

 

Hermione did not feel calm at that reassurance. Her eyes were still wide, her curly hair– so buoyant only a few moments ago– seemed to have wilted. Frankly, she looked a bit pitiable. Sighing deeply, Padma asked the question that had been lingering at the back of her mind ever since Hermione had choked on her wine. “What’s this really about? You know you can tell anything, right? Did he do something more than bully you at school? I know how you were tortured at Malfoy Manor. It was in the papers, just after the war. Did– did he do something to you then?”

 

Hermione shook her head and managed a weak smile. “No, he did nothing...”  
  
Perhaps she said too much in just those few words because she found herself being hugged. “I’m sorry,” whispered Padma before breaking the hug, giving her an encouraging smile and taking her seat on the opposite side of the table again.

 

A stretch of silence reigned, before Hermione finally spoke up. “Remember when I told you that Eirene’s father died, so I don’t like to talk about it?”

 

Padma nodded empathetically, surmising that Hermione was going to tell her the story of her dearly departed one.

 

“Well, people assume I never terminated the pregnancy despite not being married, because I wanted to keep a piece of him alive.” Hermione looked up, determined to tell her story. “I told my friends, that he was a childhood friend of mine, who died in an accident. We grew up together in my old neighbourhood. It was one night, which I thought was a mistake. We promised things wouldn’t change between us, that we’d always stay friends. Till he went and got himself killed barely a week later. I was devastated. And inconsolable, when I realized I was pregnant with his child. My friends, Harry and Ron, were there for me. They never asked any uncomfortable questions. They just accepted my decisions. They accepted Eirene. But I-”

 

Hermione paused, her face pinched like she found it difficult to continue talking about it. Padma grabbed her hand, and held it between both of hers. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to... If it’s too painful. Sometimes, you never truly get over someone’s death. I know I’m still not over my Nan’s and she died a decade ago. There’s no shame in feeling hurt. It’s proof you’re still human.” She consoled.

 

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she gulped, “I have to get this out.” Squeezing Padma’s hand to express her gratitude, she grabbed her wine glass and downed it before speaking again, her voice clear of the tears that had choked her up a moment ago.

 

“It was all bollocks.”  
  
Padma frowned. “ _Feelings_ aren’t bollocks. You’re entitled to them.”

 

“No! I meant my story! It’s not true! I _fucking_ made it up to not sound like a stupid drunk floozy who got knocked up ‘cause she was too stupid to cast a contraceptive charm correctly!” Hermione shouted before bursting into hysterical tears.

 

“What?” Padma asked, flabbergasted.

 

Hermione hiccuped before speaking through her tears, “I made the story up to avoid uncomfortable questions. I just couldn’t just tell them that I got drunk one night and slept with Draco Malfoy! Not when it was in the news a few days later that he was affianced to Astoria Greengrass! And then I found out I was pregnant. I was devastated! It was easy to spin a sob story, ‘cause I was already freaking out. But I couldn’t tell people the truth! I was in the middle of passing an important bill! You don’t understand! Kingsley trusted me to him help him out in the early years. I couldn’t let a scandal destroy all our efforts. I couldn’t have people raise ad-hominem arguments to counter my bills! They were looking to tear him down!”

 

“Umm... wow,” was all that Padma said.

 

“I know, I know! I just kept digging myself into a bigger hole. It was one lie to protect another and at one point, they became so elaborate that even I started believing them.”

 

“Is that why you keep a photo of some random guy on your bedside table?”

 

“That’s a photo of my favourite muggle actor,” said Hermione, sounding embarrassed.

 

“Were you ever planning to tell Eirene the truth?”

 

“I thought I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.” said Hermione sheepishly. “In any case, Malfoy comes from a prejudiced family. I doubt they’d be happy to know he has a half-blood kid running about. I lied to protect her from any harm!”

 

“So the real reason you want him out, is because you don’t want to risk him finding out that he has a daughter?”

 

“Well, yeah…”

 

Padma sighed. She pinched the skin between her eyes before snapping, “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard,” seeing Hermione’s distraught face however, she softened her tone. “But I understand why you want to see him kicked out. I have no idea how he’ll react to seeing Eirene. She does have that signature blonde hair, even though you glamour it often. I think he can put two and two together.”

 

“I’m worried about her…” Hermione said, biting her lip worriedly.

 

“Well then, Let’s make it so he can never disrupt our lives again. You may have been drunk, but he was less than gentlemanly to have done what he did. He had a fiance too! The nerve of him to take advantage of you like that! And to be a constant source of threat to your happiness. IF HE THINKS HE CAN JUST WALK IN AND SPOIL A WOMAN’S LIFE BY BEING IRRESPONSIBLE AND SPOILING HER FUTURE BY SADDLING HER WITH CHILD– ”

 

“Umm, Padma?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“We have to kick him out of the area, not kill the guy.”

 

***

 

Draco Malfoy was finally free. He had spent half his life under the thumb of his parents, especially his father, with his constant talk about upholding the family’s name, taking pride in their traditions and culture. His foray into Hogwarts was that of self discovery and eventually (maybe a little too late) a re-evaluation of priorities. Unfortunately, as Draco learnt the hard way, you don’t choose sides in a war, you’re often born in them. After the Dark Lord’s fall, just when he thought things might get better, they got worse. He was carted off to Azkaban, incarcerated as an under-trial on serious charges like the use of Unforgivables, attempt to murder and twelve others that he couldn’t remember (chose to forget). The testimonies of the Golden Trio however, proved to be a clinching factor and led to his eventual release. But it wasn’t before suffering torture and humiliation at the hands of the Azkaban guards who, unlike the former impartial sort (the Dementors), were only human and thus afflicted with things like feelings and prejudice.

 

When he was finally released, his mother had cried and hugged him, but he couldn’t quite gather his thoughts and express anything but stoicism. His emaciated face plastered across the Daily Prophet article on his release hadn’t done him any favours. He’d realized that later when he tried to get back into the dating scene. His mother on the other hand, hadn’t even been tried, for Potter’s word in her favour had immense clout in the post war structure. His father, who had been stripped of his wand by Voldemort himself and spent most of his Second Rising as a cowering fool in most people’s eyes, was given a much lighter sentence than the other death eaters and had to only serve seven years under house arrest. Lucius was also stripped of his titles, land and wealth, all of which came to be under Draco’s instead.

 

Just when he’d thought he was finally free to pursue his endeavours, his parents had arranged a marriage to one Astoria Greengrass. They say first impressions are last impressions. Draco wholeheartedly agreed, if what the statement implies is that you’re stuck with the decisions you make on the basis of those first impressions for life. Astoria, so loving and empathetic towards him in the beginning had turned into a cold hearted bitch as soon as they were betrothed. The thing about Pureblood Betrothal Contracts was that only death or marriage could get you out of them. He wasn’t willing to die, just when he’d been set free and nor was he willing to go back to Azkaban for orchestrating his fiance’s murder. He was a Slytherin after all, and self-preservation tactics ran deep in his blood. So he chose to swallow that bitter pill and marry her.  
  
Not before engaging in one last hurrah- he recalled wistfully.

 

Yes. That unexpected night spent in the throes of passion with the most unlikely witch, someone who had captured his attention for the better part of a decade, had been the most freeing moment of his life. He had simultaneously fulfilled a long held fantasy while also giving the metaphorical middle finger to his father and his anachronistic beliefs. He still held a small flame in his heart for her pouty lips, dark curls, breathy sighs and those big doe eyes that hid little, ever since. Every touch, every look they shared that night, he remembered fondly three years later.

 

He had tried to make it work with Astoria, but their values only diverged further after their marriage. While she may have resigned herself to be in a loveless marriage, he couldn’t let his marriage be just another prison from which he longed to be free. And so, to his mother’s horror and his father’s mirth, he had filed for divorce.

 

Sick of his father’s prophecies about his impending misery because of his foolish notions of 'love' and his mother’s demeanor that made him feel like he was dying of a fatal disease (she burst into tears every time he made his presence known to her, post his divorce), he chose to take control of his life and moved into a beautiful, posh little house in an affluent wizarding neighbourhood. His agent and the ex-owner, had both assured him of his privacy here, something he was frankly looking forward to. He wanted his peace of mind. He wanted to be able to get up in the morning and not feel dread. He wanted to pursue the interests of his choice.

 

As he looked out the living room window of his new home, he felt that knot of tension in his chest ease. The living room had wide french windows that opened onto a medium sized, well-manicured garden, fringed with trees that glittered in the afternoon sun. He watched the leaves sway and dance in the light wind, before deciding to head out and feel it for himself.

He got a glimpse of the other houses as he stepped out, nestled similarly among their own gardens and decided he needed to make a fresh start and put his best foot forward. He wanted to get out of that closed circle of purebloods that limited his emotional and professional growth. He knew this affluent community housed some of the most famous potioneers, inventors and academics. He could really pick their brain about their life experiences, their innovations and knowledge. He’d imagined the gatherings to involve enriching discussions about the latest publications and articles in Transfiguration Today or Journal of Arithmancy. He may have been a bully back in school but he enjoyed intelligent conversations and discussions that spanned topics beyond their coursebooks, as much as the Ravenclaws. Which was why he took it doubly hard when Granger managed to best him despite everything.

Deciding that now was as good a time as any, he stepped out onto the street and glanced about, wondering which house he should approach first. The one that was just in front of him was a cute cottage with creepers lined around its roof. He squinted at the building before realizing it had a strong ward running around its compound. Deducing that someone with such strong wards wasn’t likely to entertain unannounced visitors, he decided to visit the swanky white one right next to his own. Just as he turned, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized there was a tall, dark woman standing next to him.

 

“Malfoy. Good to see you again.”

 

“Do I know you?” He asked, sounding a bit annoyed at being startled like that.

 

“Padma Patil. Ravenclaw. We were in the same year at Hogwarts.”

 

“Oh. Yes,” he muttered, “The Patil Twins. You look...different.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked sharply.

  
  
“Just, Uh, that you’ve grown– ” He floundered as he tried to put his thoughts into words that were not as incriminating as they sounded inside his head.

“You were going to say fat, weren’t you?”

 

Clearly, he’d failed to not sound incriminating.

 

“Yeah. Shoving a baby out of your vagina does that to you. But you wouldn’t know that. You didn’t have any kids with _Astoria_.” She stated, enjoying seeing him cringe.

 

Draco narrowed his eyes at the gall of this woman. First, to startle him and then to discuss his private life. He made a mental note to talk to the agents about their definition of privacy.

 

“Not that it’s any of your business.” He sneered, reverting to his sixteen year old persona instantly. “Why am I talking to you?” He asked rather rudely.

 

“On behalf of the Homeowner’s Association and as Secretary of the council, I wanted to personally welcome you to the neighbourhood.” Padma showed her teeth, in a way that was clearly meant to be a smile.

 

Draco relaxed his shoulders at that and said, “Thank you.”

 

“Yes well, let me know if you face any difficulties adjusting to this place. I live right over there-” she pointed to the side of the street opposite his. He squinted to take a look at what she was pointing at but she’d retracted her finger a little too quickly and continued, “Hope you find your house comfortable. Too bad what happened to the previous one, eh?”

 

Draco frowned, sounding a bit confused “Uh, he moved to New York?”

  
  
_Drats,_ she thought. She didn’t think he was in touch with the previous owner. Usually, the agents didn’t reveal their identities. It was part of the whole ‘Privacy First’ USP of the place.

 

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “The one before that.”

 

“What happened to them?” asked Draco, curiously.

 

“Died.” She finished darkly, before turning and apparating away, leaving Draco feeling drained of all the positive energy he had been feeling only a moment ago.

 

“Pssst.” Came a whisper from behind the gates of the white mansion he’d been contemplating a visit to. Draco walked a little further towards the sound, before he saw the gates open marginally to reveal an eccentrically dressed man who looked to be in his forties. He wore gaudy green robes that sparkled in the sun and a pair of fuchsia pink glasses. His sandy hair was short, and spiked with Sleekeazy’s latest _Enduring Tresses_ concoction. The guy beckoned him with a finger and Draco had to look around to confirm that the guy meant to call him, before narrowing his eyes in offence. Malfoys were _not_ beckoned. Except when it was done by the Dark Lord apparently.

 

“Don’t just stand there! Come in, before the Harpy gets back.” The strange man whispered.

 

“I beg your pardon?” asked Draco, bemused.The man opened the gates wider in an effort to mimic an invitation, and he decided to go out on a limb and comply.

 

Just as soon as he’d walked in, the gates were quickly closed and he was pushed towards front door and almost shoved inside before it slammed shut. A wave of the man’s wand and the door was locked very thoroughly, if the sheer number of locks were any indication. Draco was beginning to regret his Hufflepuff-ish behaviour of being friendly to strangers, when he looked around and noticed that there was a gathering of sorts in what seemed to be a large drawing room down the hall.

 

“It seems like you’ve been tagged. And on your first day too!” said the man as he grabbed Draco’s arm and walked him down the hall to join the gathering. There were about half a dozen people there who seemed to be enjoying a scrumptious assortment of finger foods while talking.  Thankfully, none of them were dressed as badly as the guy next to him, but some of them looked at him with suspicious eyes.

 

“Artemis Bagshot,” The man finally introduced himself and held his hand out. Draco took it reflexively, his pureblood manners kicking-in.

 

“Draco Malfoy.”

 

“Oh!” proclaimed the man, but didn’t withdraw his hand in distaste as Draco was expecting. “That explains why the Harpy has it out for you.”  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow and finally asked the question that had been niggling at his mind, “Who’s the harpy?”

 

“The woman who you just met outside your house.”

  
  
“Padma Patil?” But no sooner as the words slipped out of his mouth, there was a collective gasp in the room and the chatter died down. A clatter of a spoon somewhere only served to magnify the silence.

 

“We do not use their names.” Artemis reprimanded, his voice hoarse.

 

“Why not? And who else are you talking about?” asked Draco, feeling more discombobulated by the second.

 

“She Who Must Not Be Named!” the man whispered, managing to sound dramatic.

 

Draco felt the hair on his neck stand up, and fear course through his veins. A fear he’d never thought he’d feel again. His day was just moving from great to bad to worse. Why couldn’t he have stayed back in the Manor? Why did he have to go all Gryffindork and try and forge his own path? Maybe his father did have powers of a Seer. Merlin knew there had been a seer or two in the Malfoy line.

 

“Don’t scare the boy, Arty. He looks ready to pass out,” said a bearded old man who approached them. He wore navy blue robes and his eyes held the promise of wisdom. Draco recognized him instantly, for he often paid the man a hefty consultation fee whenever he ran into trouble with one of their companies’ potions and needed an opinion.

 

“Mr. Ludwig!” he exclaimed, glad to see a familiar face.

 

“Draco, m’boy! It’s good to see you!” He greeted merrily before addressing the man who Draco was increasingly starting to dislike. “Arty, we’re all friends here. I believe there are no spies in today’s meeting, only loyalists.”

 

“What is going on here?!” Draco demanded.

 

Ludwig looked at Draco empathetically before grasping a shoulder of his and walking him out to the large gardens that the room overlooked. Arty followed.  
  
“You see, Draco. You have come to this place during dark times. This community is not what it used to be. We’re all a bunch of non-conformists here, and many of us resisted the Dark Lord’s regime in ways both big and small. Of course, not as big as Harry Potter’s!” He laughed, before sobering up. “We love our eccentricities, are even proud of them! But lately, since the past year in fact, someone we all thought would lead us towards further liberation, freedom of thought...promote creativity, has made us feel straitjacketed instead.”

 

Draco must have still looked confused, because Ludwig clarified, “I don’t mean the current establishment, well I do! But I mean the establishment here at Hampstead- The Council to be precise,” he finished bitterly.

 

“Padma Patil, she’s the secretary,” said Draco, finally getting a grasp of the situation.

 

“Yes, but the woman behind the so-called “reforms” is the President, Hermione Granger.”

 

Draco’s heart soared when he heard her name. He couldn’t believe his ears. What were the odds? Eyes wide, he asked, “Granger lives here? In Wizarding Hampstead Gardens?”

 

“Indeed,” Ludwig said, gravely.

 

Draco frowned. “But that doesn’t sound like Granger…” The woman he knew was passionate and sincere. She fought for people’s rights (even his), not curtailed them. She may have been a stickler for rules, but not when they went against her morals. She fought against Umbridge’s repression of creativity and talent for Merlin's sake.

 

“She is the President,” said Arty snidely. “When the Charity Quidditch match was cancelled, the notice had her signature on it. She’s the one with links to the DMLE, it’s conceivable she tipped them off about Mary- I mean Ms Fitzgerald.”

 

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know what Fitzgerald did, but she must have had it coming.”  
  
Arty was indignant, “Mary was a wonderful woman who shared her gifts... _of the mind_ ,” he added hastily at the look on Draco’s face, “with many of us. Gifts we are deprived of now because of short-sighted interests. Our neighbourhood’s motto has always been ‘Freedom First’ and she violated that when she reported Fitzgerald to the Ministry!”

 

“Arty, I think the boy may have a point. Ms Granger works as an Assistant Head to the busiest department of the ministry. She has a kid to look after– ” Both Draco and Arty made odd noises at that. While the former choked on his spit at the shock of this unexpected news, the latter coughed what sounded like ‘cat’.

 

“Granger has a child?” asked Draco, eyes wide and chest filling with dread. “She’s married?”

 

Ludwig shook his head, “She never married. Heard the poor sod died. She kept the baby as deference to his memory, risking her career. We’re impressed she took a tough decision and stood by it.”

 

Draco felt relief flood his veins, tamping down on the guilt of being glad at someone’s death.

 

Ludwig continued, “She has a kid to look after as well. It isn’t possible to juggle so much work for one person.”

 

“So you’re saying Padma is the executor _and_ the brain behind the new regime?” asked Arty, astonished.

 

“Yes. And if that’s true, we would need to change our plans for them.”

  
  
Arty looked thoughtful. “I heard Mrs. Crowley slip that Padma’s husband tries to stay away as much as he can. She must be an insufferable nag,” he said unkindly.

 

Draco sighed and rubbed his temple. This conversation was far from what he’d hoped for when he first pictured interacting with his neighbours.

 

“What had you guys planned for them?” Draco asked.

 

By now, the rest of the gathering had also spilled onto the gardens. A woman heard his question and approached him, “We had planned to hold an unscheduled meeting after gathering enough signatures to hold one, and pass a motion impeaching the members of the Council.”

 

“On what grounds?” He asked.

 

The woman muttered, “See, that’s the bit we haven’t entirely figured out yet.”

 

“There are a few ideas, it’s not as grim as Melinda makes it sound,” Ludwig interjected.

 

“But why can’t you just wait until the next election?”

 

“No, no! They can’t remain in power for another two years!” Arty exclaimed, sounding horrified. “They’ve already dismantled our traditions and if we give them even another year, who knows what she could do! Already, six members of our society have either been coerced out or been arrested. We just want to live in peace again!”

 

“Yes, it’s for the best.” said Melinda, sagely. “The sheer number of rules and changes they’re bringing is suffocating the rest of us. Can you believe that they’ve assigned ‘designated broom areas’ to fly? It’s a public hazard they said! The worst part is, half of the residents agree with them. So until we get the numbers on our side, it would be suicide to expose our plans.”

 

“And you’ve been tagged by Padma.” Artemis said to Draco, worriedly. “That means she’s got her eyes on you and that does not bode well. I would suggest ingratiating yourself with the rest of the residents before she blindsides you with an expulsion. The HWA members voted to kick Grayson out just last month and all he did was violate the new noise pollution limits.”

 

“To be fair, he did indulge in some dubious potion experimenting,” Melinda grimaced.

 

Artemis threw her a look of contempt, but before the matter could escalate, Ludwig intervened to close the conversation. “Enough scheming for now!” He put an arm around Draco shoulder and guided him back inside. “Come, Draco. There are some wonderful Hors D'oeuvres being served back there. My personal favourite are the mini pastries stuffed with...something.”

 

***

 

_One month later…_

 

“He’s a sneaky little shit,” griped Padma, over a glass of Firewhisky. She’d put Arjuna to bed and left Jason to mind the house while she’d floo’d over to Hermione’s with a bottle of Odgen’s. Hermione had slipped into her sleep wear and was just cleaning up for the night when she had taken one look at Padma’s face and decided she needed a drinking partner.

 

“Jason? Is he cheating on you?” she asked, concerned about her friend.

 

“What?!” exclaimed Padma, “Hell no. He wouldn’t dare. The last time I suspected anything, I threatened to cut his balls off. Told him it’s either me or..well- no one.” She snorted.

 

But Hermione had a look of horror on her face, so Padma quickly laughed it off. “I’m kidding. I love the guy. He loves me. We love each other. No, I meant Malfoy.”

 

Hermione frowned. “Yes, he’s settling in comfortably, isn’t he? Last I heard he sent a huge gift basket to every house in the neighbourhood. It had a bottle of wine from his french vineyard. He’s got everyone floored.”

 

“Yeah, I got it as well. It’s a good one, expensive too. Hint of cherry and spice,” Padma recalled, with a sentimental look on her face. “Jason and I opened the bottle after our date night last weekend. But, forget that. He’s proving to be a surprisingly capable adversary.”

 

“Yes, I know.” said Hermione, as she combed her fingers through her thick curls in a sign of frustration. “I’ve brewed a tiny vial of the _infelicitas potion_ as you suggested. But that’s going to be our last resort.”

 

Padma’s eyes lit up at the news. “You’ve brewed it? Where is it?”

 

“It’s in my safe, hidden out of sight so that no one can access it. You know that stuff’s dangerous. It may be called the ‘bad luck’ potion in common parlance, but messing the dosage up by even a drop can have devastating consequences. So we are not considering that! Not yet!”

 

“Very well,” Padma sighed in resignation, before moving on. “So let me get this straight. Plan A was to get him scared, and make him believe his place was haunted by an invisible poltergeist.That didn’t work because we didn’t actually have access to a poltergeist, and had to make do with your cat instead. Which got caught. You’re lucky I could play it off like your cat’s gone senile and doesn’t realize whose house he’s entering.”

 

“It’s not Crooks’ fault! I didn’t think Malfoy would have the Caterwauling Charm in place on his first night here! But thank you for retrieving him for me.”

 

“Mmhmm, yes, you’ve successfully avoided him. But I’ve noticed he’s _not_ trying to avoid you. He recognized your cat immediately and insisted he drop it off to your place. I had to tell him I was cat-sitting for you and you weren’t in town.”

 

Hermione nodded. “And I owe you for that.”

 

“To be fair, that plan was mine.”

 

“Yes, but I put my foot down when you insisted we summon a real malevolent spirit. So...” Hermione shook her head, unwilling to let Padma take the blame for that one.

 

“Our next plan was good– no hear me out before you shake your head– It was _good_. I just don’t understand why it didn’t work.” Padma wondered, sounding baffled.

 

“Well, hiring a woman to seduce him and then make his life hell by pretending to be a stalker would have worked if he’d got over his divorce! I told you it was too soon. He clearly needed time before throwing himself into another relationship.”

 

Padma shook her head at that, “He didn’t even sleep with her. That was all that was needed to get our plan rolling. What kind of guy turns down a hot young woman who approaches him for sex?”

 

“Maybe he’s really depressed and can’t get it up.” Hermione guessed, shrugging her shoulders before downing her drink.

 

“Maybe,” contemplated Padma, tracing her lower lip with her finger as she pondered, “or maybe, he’s interested in someone else,” she said, and glanced pointedly in Hermione’s direction– who snorted.

 

“Listen, he didn’t consider me back when I was single and ready to sleep with him, what makes you think he’d consider me now when I’m saddled with _a kid_?”

 

“ _His_ kid. And you’re still gorgeous. Have you noticed how people get tongue tied in your presence and can’t argue or complain even when they want to? It’s why you keep winning your arguments at the Wizengamot.” Hermione gasped in offence at that and tried to cover Padma’s lips to get her to stop talking, but Padma dodged and soldiered on “And he did ‘consider’ you ‘cause he slept with you,” she argued. “But do you realize that you just made it sound like you’d consider _him_?”

 

“Stop, we’re not having this conversation.” said Hermione as she made to get up, but Padma grabbed her by the hand and yanked her to sit back on the sofa.

 

“All right! I won’t bring it up again! Well, moving on. He’s been talking to the old biddies.”

 

“So?” Hermione asked.

 

“It’s just suspicious.” Padma explained. “He won’t talk to a young woman but he’ll talk to them? Unless he’s actually a gerontophile, I think he’s either up to something or onto us.”

 

Hermione felt the hair on her arms rise. She clutched her glass tightly before whispering, “Do you think he’s found out about Eirene?”

 

“No! We’ve been extra careful with her. A bit too careful, in fact. People are starting to ask questions.”

 

Hermione looked at her friend, confused. “What kind of questions? Do they think I no longer live here?”

 

Padma grimaced a bit before confessing, “ _Noo_. Just that you may not actually have a kid."

 

“What?! That’s preposterous!”

 

“Well, in their defence, no one has ever got a proper glimpse of her, because you’re so careful. It’s not the worst theory anyway.”

 

Amused and not a little horrified, Hermione asked. “Do I wanna know the worst one?”

 

“I wouldn’t recommend it, no.” her friend confessed.

 

“Where do you get all this information from anyway? You always know what people are saying!”

 

“Yes well, I have a mole.” Padma said, wagging her eyebrows. “Mrs Crowley!”

 

Hermione laughed at that. “You and Parvati are more alike than you think”

 

Padma gasped dramatically, before slapping her arm. “Take that back!”

 

“Never!” she said, before they both dissolved into hysterical laughter.

 

When they’d started to breathe normally, Hermione asked amusedly. “So what do they talk about? The biddies and him?”

 

“Oh, nothing much. He asked after their health, yada yada. They talked about their usual old people problems, body aches and the rest. He offered solutions.”

 

“That’s...surprisingly kind of him. No wonder he won the ‘Saviour of the Neighbourhood’ title despite only being here for a month.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what makes me so suspicious. He even offered them his own freshly brewed batch of pain relievers. Snakes may shed their skin, but they remain snakes.” Padma muttered, darkly.

“And you shouldn’t have turned down my proposal to let the council make that selection. You had to go all democratic and let it be decided by vote.”

 

“Hey! It was technically my first independent decision, and I wanted to make it count. Plus, the Council has more important things to do than decide the winner of a popularity contest- Oh my god!” Hermione shouted as she got up and started pacing around.

  
“What happened?” asked a perplexed Padma.

 

“He has a Potions Lab! He didn’t get an approval for brewing potions at home! I don’t remember signing any approval slips in the last 3 months!” Hermione nattered excitedly. “And not only that, the gift baskets! We could show that he tried to influence the results of the popularity contest to win by trying to bribe the neighbourhood! Which I bet, is what he was trying to do anyway!”

 

“Oh my gosh!” uttered Padma excitedly before jumping up from the sofa and giving Hermione a crushing hug.“You’re a genius! He’s finally slipped up! We have to move now before he’s able to get enough people on his side to turn the vote in his favour when we move the motion to expel him.”

 

Realizing that things were finally falling into place, Hermione had a moment of hesitation. “It’s not wrong, right? To get him kicked out when he just moved in?”

 

Padma grabbed her shoulders before saying fiercely, “Of course not! And remember you’re doing this for Eirene. Only one of you can live in this neighbourhood, if she is to be kept a secret and I sure as hell won’t let my – best friend leave!”

 

Hermione burst into tears at the declaration and hugged her back. Padma had indeed become her best friend, just as Ron and Harry were. She would’ve been so lost as a single mother if she hadn't had her support. She was truly grateful for her friend.

 

***

_The next evening..._

 

There was a flutter of excitement in the auditorium of the community centre where all the members of the Homeowners’ Welfare Association had gathered for an unscheduled meeting called in by the council. People were understandably jittery. These meetings usually ended with either declarations of new regulations or someone getting kicked out. People were wondering whose turn it was this time. A rumour was going around that it may be Artemis Bagshot's. The glint from his shimmery dress robes during a particularly sunny day had blinded Jason momentarily while he was returning home on a broomstick, causing him to crash and break his wrist. The look on Padma’s face as she repaired her husband’s wrist had been ‘murderous’ according to eyewitnesses and the sociable Arty hadn’t stepped out of his house in three days. Unfortunately, he had been summoned just as the rest of them for this meeting and he’d been cowering in the corner at the back of the hall, trying to look diminutive– a task that was made quite difficult given that his robes of choice today were fuchsia in colour (“It’s his lucky colour apparently,” announced Mrs. Crowley to no one in particular). The other members of ‘The Resistance’ however, had knowing looks in their eyes. It seemed that multiple plans were afoot this evening.

 

No one noticed a lone figure draped in black from head-to-toe, standing in the corner opposite that of Artemis’. This person seemed ruffled as well, but for a different reason. This was the first time in three years that Draco Malfoy would get to meet Hermione Granger again. He could feel his heart racing and he tried to control his breathing to get himself to calm down. But he couldn’t. Everything he thought he knew about his life had been upended today.

 

_He’d woken up as usual, put on his silk pyjamas and made his way to the kitchen to brew himself some tea, when he saw his mother’s owl waiting outside the window. He let him in, fed him a treat before unfurling the scroll and reading his mother’s unusual letter. For once, her handwriting had been shaky instead of a perfect calligraphy and she had written only a few lines summoning him urgently. Concerned, he’d put on a shirt and apparated to the Manor immediately._

 

_“Mistress is in the Ancestral Room.” The elf had announced on his arrival._

 

 _He’d quickly made his way to the room which held the Malfoy Family Tree, much like the Black one. He’d found her sitting on a sofa, looking sombre. No one had been in this room for years._  
_  
_

_“What is it, mother?” He asked delicately_

 

_“Explain yourself.” She muttered softly, as if she couldn’t quite muster enough strength to speak._

 

_Confused and slightly annoyed at the ambiguity of the question, he couldn’t help but lace his next words with a bit of an edge. “Explain what?”_

 

_Suddenly, she got up with such energy that Draco actually took a step back, startled._

 

_“I taught you to be a schemer, not a liar!” she roared as she whipped her wand out and pointed it at him, magical energy crackling all around her. She was a fearsome sight indeed. Draco remained rooted where he stood, wide-eyed and shocked._

 

_Just when she was about to flick her wrist and cast a spell, Draco pleaded, “Mother, I promise you. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”_

 

_Looking at his confused and guileless eyes, Narcissa calmed and put her wand down. “Why did you divorce Astoria?” she finally asked._

 

_“I never loved her,” said Draco softly. “You know this.”_

 

_“Was there anyone else?” she asked sharply._

 

_“No.” He couldn’t stop the hurt from leaking into his words. He couldn’t believe that she thought so low of him. “I wouldn’t do that to my wife.”_

 

_Recognizing the truth in his words, she was about to let him off when she narrowed her eyes again. “What about when you weren’t married to her?”_

 

_“You know I have had girlfriends in the past.”_

 

_“Did those girlfriends include Hermione Granger?” His mother hissed menacingly._

 

_Once again, he was rendered speechless._

 

_“Well?!?” His mother prompted._

 

_“No.” He whispered._

 

_“I swear Draco, if you lie to me I will hex you into oblivion, I don’t care if you’re my son!” Narcissa nearly screeched._

 

 _He felt his cheeks flood with mortification as he was forced to talk about his sex life. “We only spent one night together.”_  
_  
_ _In his embarrassment, he failed to ask why his mother knew about Granger at all. Before he had the time to gather his thoughts, his mother grabbed him by his arm and thrust him towards the part of the wall that had their branch. There, right below_ Draco Malfoy, _was a broken line connecting him to a girl named Eirene Granger. Broken lines implied illegitimate children. He knew that. But for the life of him, he couldn’t wrap his head around what he was reading._

_“Oh dear,” his mother said sadly. “You didn’t know either.”_

 

 _But he couldn't hear her, not when his blood was roaring in his ears and his veins were on fire. He felt his heartbeat rise rapidly and before he knew it, he was finding it difficult to breathe. The last thing he thought before passing out was_ – _frankly_ – _nothing. His mind was blank._

  


The stage lights finally turned on, illuminating a table with two chairs. Padma and Hermione walked in and took their places. Hermione took her wand out and cast a Sonorous Charm at her throat.

 

“Greetings, members! I come here before you today, with grave news of misdemeanour. Our society has strived to make this neighbourhood an ideal one. One where we seek to nurture and protect. One were we promote values like honesty and sincerity, not a perversion of the truth or subversion of facts.”

 

 _Hark, look who’s talking!_ thought Draco.

 

The audience glanced around, wondering who could have pissed Hermione off. She was hardly ever present for these meetings as Padma usually helmed them; and when she did, she never spoke more than a word or two.

 

“It has come to my notice that Draco Malfoy, Resident of House Number 4, has violated provisions of our Rulebook, namely Section Three pertaining to illegal potioneering and Section Seven–  Bribery. I propose that he be expelled from our society and this neighbourhood for conduct unbefitting that of what’s expected from a resident of our esteemed society.”

 

There were loud murmurs of confusion in the crowd. If this unfazed her, it wasn’t visible on Hermione’s face. An old man with white hair sticking out in every direction and a rather expensive set of burgundy robes stood up. He had a sense of authority emanating from his person and the room soon quietened to hear him speak.

 

“That’s a rather harsh punishment, Ms Granger. And for what? For trying to help an old man get rid of his pain?”

 

A round of “Aye’s” went up.

 

Hermione spoke again, unrattled. “These are serious transgressions, Mr. Ludwig. His potions laboratory was not a part of the building plan and the addition of that room without proper approvals violates not just our rule-book, but also the laws. His attempt to bribe his way into winning the 'Saviour of the Neighbourhood' title was improper and illegal. We, in our magnanimity, have chosen to not report the matter to the concerned authorities.”

 

“I must interject, Ms Granger. The rule-book came into existence only last year, and it was drafted by a committee comprising a single person–  Ms Patil– and approved by the President of the HWA, who happened to be you– her close friend and confidante. If the rest of us are a bit fuzzy on the details, you’ll have to forgive us, m’dear.”

 

“Ignorance of the law is not an excuse, Mr. Ludwig.”

 

“And you claim to be setting laws here? Then I must insist that you do not violate centuries of jurisprudence! Damning someone without a hearing is hardly fair.”

 

Hermione was silent for a moment. This was certainly an impediment, but not one that couldn’t be overcome. She could hear Padma grinding her teeth in frustration and was tempted to ignore the old man. But she knew that in order to win this vote, she’d have to play by the rules.

 

“Very well. I now grant Mr. Malfoy the opportunity to step up and present his defence, if he disagrees with these charges,” she spoke and shuffled her papers uselessly to avoid looking up.

 

The crowd became restless once more, as every person in the room tried to locate the man in question. A moment later, he stepped out of the shadows and removed his hood to reveal his pale blonde hair, so similar to her daughter’s that she felt her heart flutter. Surprisingly, his appearance was disheveled and a far cry from his usual suave and immaculately dressed self.

 

He walked straight up and stopped only at the bottom of the stairs that led to the stage where she sat with Padma. People around him parted like the sea. He seemed to be looking straight at her and she realized she’d have to look up. When she did, she noticed his eyes were slightly bloodshot. Her conscience made an unwelcome appearance once again.

 

“Granger,” he nodded elegantly.

 

She licked her lips before speaking again. “You may speak in your defence, Malfoy.”

 

“I refute both your _allegations_ ,” He said easily, in a tone that seemed almost unaffected.

 

The murmurs and whispers started again before Hermione called for order.

 

Draco continued. “While I may not have taken approval for brewing the potions in my home from you, the layout for the laboratory was approved by the ministry itself when I bought the house.”  
  
Padma stood up in outrage and shouted, “What?!”

 

Malfoy sneered at her. “The records were made confidential on my request and removed from the public archives. It was done as I remain a target for certain nefarious groups who continue to regard my family as traitors to the Dark Lord’s cause. Drawings depicting the layout of my building plan are sensitive information. But I do have a letter from the ministry in my possession that explicitly grants me approval for the addition.” He conjured and brandished the document around almost lazily.

 

Hermione pulled Padma by the hand to make her take her seat again, and summoned the document, giving it a hasty read. It was difficult, considering how her head wouldn’t stop spinning. But she nodded to acknowledge the authentic seal of the concerned department.

 

“As for the allegations of Bribery,” he continued as if he had never been interrupted. “They’re ludicrous. Those gifts were intended as a greeting to my new neighbours and were not conditional on any action of the receiver. I am rich, and I can afford to give such gifts. Moreover, I was informed of my “participation” only after I’d won. While I do not have any proof that I did not personally enter my name in this– ” he sneered, “–competition, I’m afraid you don’t have any proof to counter my claim either.”

 

The crowd became obstreperous once again when one of the biddies shouted, “I nominated you, _sweetcheeks_!”

 

Hermione had become visibly frazzled the more he spoke. She was beginning to realize that nobody saw him as that prejudiced boy on the wrong side of society anymore. Only her. And only because she’d felt personally slighted by what happened between them. She tried to not let her voice shake when she called for order once again.

 

“We have heard your arguments. We’ll now have the vote. Those in favour of Mr. Malfoy’s expulsion, please raise your hand,” she said, while raising hers. A total of four hands, including Padma’s were raised. She wanted to drop this farce of a voting that was quickly turning into her nightmare, but she had to see this through. “I count five votes. Those against?”

 

This time, nearly the entire hall responded. She didn’t bother to count. “Very well, I rescind the allegations,” she said briskly, gathering papers. “You’re all dismissed– ”

 

“Not so fast, I’m afraid,” Mr. Ludwig interrupted, once again.  
  
Padma growled, “What is it, Mr. Ludwig?” and proceeded to give him the worst death stare Hermione had ever seen. Ludwig’s beard around his throat twitched, giving the impression that he swallowed, but his eyes remained calm and his demeanor, collected.

 

“You see, it’s simply not done that you accuse a person of such _serious_ charges and expect his reputation to come out unscathed. We believe that this council has vitiated the atmosphere in this neighbourhood, with constant expulsions and imposition of arbitrary rules.”

 

Hermione made to interject, “Mr. Ludwig, I admit that this time the council didn’t do its due diligence before making these allegations, but I assure you–  no one has been expelled without due cause. Mr. Malfoy’s reputation remains unscathed, as does his popularity.”

 

Ludwig nodded, “But I’m afraid the rest of us aren’t quite happy with how things are running. Your decisions have been seen as dictatorial and exclusionary.”

 

Padma chose this moment to end her silence. “Mr. Ludwig, who are these people who seem dissatisfied with our work? I don’t see anyone but you.” she finished with a derisive laugh. One that did not reach her eyes.

 

Ludwig seemed to be considering her. “Ms Patil, there is a clause in the original charter of the HWA, that provides for impeachment of the council. For any such motion to be moved, you need the presence of more than three quarters of the members of the HWA.”  
  
Padma seemed incandescent at the implication of what he was proposing. “Why you– ” she started in anger, but Hermione quickly silenced her by placing her hand on Padma’s enclosed fist in a quelling gesture.  
  
“Seeing as we have the fortune of such a number here today, I propose to move the motion for the impeachment of the Secretary,” he said, while looking at Padma, before addressing Hermione, “and the President of the Council.”

Murmurs were abound once again.

 

Hermione nodded, “I’m afraid I cannot helm any vote that seeks to decide my fate.”

 

Ludwig smiled good naturedly. “I agree. I now request Mrs. Crowley, as Treasurer of the Council  to come on stage and conduct the rest of this meeting. ”

 

Padma seemed frozen for a moment. Hermione could nearly feel the sense of betrayal coming off of her in waves. Mrs Crowley, her trusted mole had clearly _not_ informed her of this development.

 

When Mrs. Crowley stepped forward, she hesitated before coming up on the stage. Hermione took the initiative to step down first instead, dragging Padma by the hand for the woman seemed to be stuck.

 

When Crowley finally sat down and spoke, her voice sounded full of fear but she continued, “Those in favour of impeaching Ms. Patil as Secretary, please raise your hand.”

 

Padma turned around to face the audience, her face passive but eyes calculating. Ludwig was the first to raise his hand, and gradually more people followed. It was a slow process. People were hesitating to raise their hands at first, but eventually they did. Nearly every hand was up in the air by the end of what felt like an age, but must have barely been a minute and a half. Hermione had stopped counting after it started to feel like a countdown instead. She tried to disassociate in order to minimize the humiliation she was feeling but couldn’t stop her cheeks from flaming red on Padma’s behalf and inevitably, her own.

 

“Those against?”

 

Hermione, Jason and two others raised their hands.

 

“Ms. Patil now stands impeached.”

 

“WHY YOU FAT BITCH!” screamed Padma, before she launched herself at the stage in an attempt to- pummel Crowley or pull her hair- no one would ever know because her husband grabbed her just as she’d reached the top stair and pulled her off, dragging her away while she kicked and screamed at the room at large. “I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARDS! I’LL WHACK YOU LIKE THE MOLE YOU ARE, CROWLEY!”

 

Her screams echoed for a while but soon, silence reigned once again implying she’d either exited the building or finally silenced. The whole room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief at her departure. Shoulders relaxed, people moved more easily. Crowley took a while to get her nerves back under control, but she did eventually and just as she was about to speak again, Hermione spoke up.

 

“I resign.” She said. Her own voice sounded strange to her ears. “I resign as President of the HWA. I’m sorry to have failed to uphold the vision and expectations of this neighbourhood.” She turned and walked out, her steps echoing as the silence amplified them. When she exited the door to the auditorium and entered the corridor leading out of the community centre, she began to run, desperate to get out. Just before she reached the main exit however, someone apparated to block her off and because she was nearly blinded by tears, she ran smack into a broad, muscled chest. She found herself enveloped by strong arms before she felt herself being dragged through a door on the right.

 

***

 

Draco kept squeezing his arms as he hugged her, his back to the door he’d just shut behind him. He wanted to reassure her, despite the fact that she kept secrets from him. He wanted to hold it against her, but he knew he couldn't. He had tried to come up with rational reasons why she’d kept their daughter a secret from him and had come up with half a dozen in less than five minutes. He’d never given her any indication that he’d changed from what he was like at school. Sure, he had sex with her, but he hadn’t stayed the next morning. She didn’t know he was expected at his own engagement party that afternoon. She didn’t know that he hadn’t woken her up before leaving because her face looked so peaceful and innocent while she was asleep that he couldn’t help but stare. She didn’t know that he played with her hair– her hair that was a constant source of fascination and consternation for him at Hogwarts– while she was asleep. How could he run his fingers through it while she was awake and not look like a ninny?

 

When she was done crying and shaking, she finally looked up and met her dark eyes with his pale ones. Stiffening immediately, she tried to push him off but her hands on his chest only served to make him crave her touch more. He relented after a few seconds though, dropping his arms from around her.

 

They stared at each other. He drank her in. She had softer curves now but she’d only grown more beautiful with age. Her dark curls hung till her breasts and her pouty lips looked as enticing as ever. All he wanted was to feel her warmth again. But she broke eye contact and reached for the door handle. Just as she turned it, his arm came up to slam the door shut again, trapping her between the door and his body heat.

 

“We need to talk,” he said gently.  
  
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Her voice sounded dead.

 

“I think you do.”

 

She spun around, fire in her eyes. “You have used me in the past, humiliated me in the present and caused my friend to have a mental breakdown. I have NOTHING to say to you.” She was vicious.

 

“If you think for a second that she wasn’t already cuckoo–”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed.

 

“You have to know this. Did you not see the fear in the eyes of the people back there? She was terrorizing them.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know her.”

 

“Did you think Ms Fitzgerald, a world renowned rare-ingredient expert wouldn’t know the permissible limits for Dragon’s Blood? Did you really think Blackfyre was arrested for breeding crups? For fuck’s sake that only carries a fine. None of us know what he was arrested for. Artemis was cowering in fear back there because Patil threatened him in broad daylight. She threatened to whack Crowley like a ‘mole’, knowing that’s what Crowley’s animagus was. That’s how she spied on people. Crowley came clean to the members of the Resistance three months ago. Padma threatens and manipulates. She’s careful to get people alone before doing it so that she can gaslight them later. Plausible deniability. She used your name to win the elections. She made you feel grateful for her presence so she could use your trust to do what she wante–” Draco stopped when he realized Hermione was crying again. She’d brought a shaky hand and covered her mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping.

 

He approached her and grabbed her shoulders gently in an effort to comfort her. He flexed his fingers to keep himself from hugging her again.

 

“Padma’s sick. She’ll be all right once she starts seeing a mind healer.” He tried to reassure her. Sick was putting it lightly. He was quite sure there would be bodies or two lying about somewhere of those who had supposedly _moved out_ after getting on her wrong side.

 

A few deep breaths later, he felt her calm down.

 

“The Resistance?” she asked, sounding nonplussed.

 

“It’s what Padma’s detractors called themselves. They had codenames for everything. Bit ridiculous really,” He prattled, feeling slightly giddy about the fact that they were having a normal conversation. As normal as it could be.

 

“Crowley’s animagus is a mole?”

 

“Yeah, she's an unregistered animagus. How d’you think she got all that information? The resistance called her their very own Severus Snape.” He smiled. 

 

“What did that make me?” She asked, sounding amused.

 

“She-who-must-not-be-named.”

 

She burst out laughing, rather hysterically in his opinion and didn’t stop till she found it difficult to breathe again. But when she did, her frown was back in full force. “This impeachment is going to destroy my nascent Ministry career. I’ll never live it down.”

 

“Actually, you resigned. Besides, we weren’t going to impeach you, not really.” He tried to explain.

  
  
She snorted and shook her head at that.

 

“No, really. There’s a non-disclosure section in all our agreements, which extends to the affairs of the HWA. I also convinced them that you couldn’t have been responsible for these incidents. And they agreed it made sense, especially since you have a busy job and my kid-”

 

She suddenly stiffened, and his brain caught up with his words.

 

“I-I mean, _a_ kid. Not _my_ kid. That was–”

 

“You know.” she stated as she stared at him wide-eyed in shock.

 

He looked into her eyes and nodded.

 

“How?”

 

“The Malfoy Family Tree.”

 

“Oh. Like the Black Family one,” she muttered as the truth dawned upon her. “I never thought about that possibility. How long have you known?”

 

Draco frowned and made a face like he was thinking really hard. “About two...hours.”

 

A gasp from Hermione’s lips made him smile.

 

When he looked into her eyes again, they only held wonder. He couldn’t help but move closer. Her lips were now only an inch away from his own.

 

“What do you want from me?” She whispered delicately, as if she was afraid of his answer.

 

She should be. It scared him too.

 

“Everything,” he whispered, before he dove in for a kiss.

 

**Fin**

 


End file.
